Shifting the Tides
by 0shadowcast
Summary: At the height of the war, in the darkest period in wizarding history, a Dark Lord and his marked Enemy meet to negotiate terms.


**Shifting the Tides**

 _ **Summary:** At the height of the war, in the darkest period in wizarding history, a Dark Lord and his marked Enemy meet to negotiate terms._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I own nothing created by anyone else._

* * *

Voldemort glided down, rows upon rows of graves greeting him eerily in the silence. Of all places…

"You're here. I'm surprised you came." The most feared Dark Lord of the century turned to meet perhaps the only one he would ever admit – in secret – had eluded him so often. Vivid green eyes shone out from a pale face, illuminated only by the steady light of the moon. It was amazing how much the boy had changed. Dark circles underlined his eyes, skin worn and pale with more scars than he could count. It was dark. It was comforting, and yet there was a tension in the air that hung between them like a tightly wrung cord.

"I never expected the Boy-Who-Lived to call for negotiations," Voldemort admitted, his voice a mere hiss, "You would choose this, of all places?"

Potter stepped back around a grave, glancing at it with interest, and Voldemort had the startling realization. It was his _father's_ grave. They were standing in the exact spot of his resurrection, and he was standing in the very place the cauldron had been placed.

"I figured it would be neutral grounds. Your heritage gives you ties to this place, and the fact that it was my blood that was spilt here has its own form of power." The words were slow, measured, and Voldemort felt a slight thrill in knowing that this was the persona only those closest to the boy had seen, the face Potter would never show to the world. The face too Slytherin to display. This odd feeling of possessiveness was something he'd grown accustomed too. After all, it was _he_ who had marked Potter. _He_ who had carved that lightning bolt upon his forehead and had lost his own body in the process. They were inextricably connected.

"What do you ask for?" Potter spoke again after a quiet moment of contemplation. His words were low and silky, power coating each syllable. The Dark Lord felt the urge to point out that the boy had called him here in the first place.

Voldemort hadn't needed to prepare. He knew what he wanted, "The Wizarding World. In return, I will give you amnesty for you and all your…friends."

Potter snorted, "I suppose nothing less than the whole of the wizarding world would suffice?"

He smiled predatorily, twirling his yew wand, though the boy wasn't perturbed. Instead, he merely seemed amused, tracing a finger over the stark white gravestone, over a patch of blood that he was sure was Potter's.

"Well, I can't per say _give_ you the Wizarding World, but I can agree to not try and prevent you from taking it, I suppose," the Boy-Who-Lived continued carefully.

"That's it? The so-called Saviour of the Wizarding World is so eager to give in? I hadn't expected you to be so…compliant." The last word came out as a sibilant hiss as his thin lips formed around the exhale of breath.

The boy snorted again, "Compliance has nothing to do with it. I care little for this world. I'll even make it easier for you by narrowing down my amnesty list to only two others. You know which ones, of course."

Voldemort nodded, content in allowing him to continue for now. It was obvious that Weasley and Granger would top the list. Though he was surprised that the boy would not argue to keep any others on the list.

"However, I will ask that you change several of your goals."

"What and intriguing proposal. Alright, I'm listening."

Potter locked eyes with him seriously, "I won't be so naïve to think that you've lost your intelligence during your time as a…spirit. I also know that this war is personal for you. However, you do realize that the problem isn't muggles themselves. In fact, without muggles, our society will not last another thousand years with the interbreeding and insanity that runs through most pureblood families. You know this. What your problem really is, are muggleborns."

"Of course. They come into our society completely unprepared, and most of them treat magic as a plaything rather than the sacred power that it is," Voldemort affirmed.

"It's not exactly their fault. Magic in the muggle world is something of fairy tales or entertainment. It's hardly treated as something serious. You know this. You've lived in the muggle world as well, long enough. What you need is a system to educate muggleborns long before they enter Hogwarts. To teach them of wizarding culture and of the sacredness of our power. As well as a few basic spells and techniques so the curriculum needn't start with the very basics just for those few muggleborns who enter Hogwarts.

"Intriguing. You are suggesting a way to completely integrate muggleborns so heavily into wizarding society that they function alongside of its culture and traditions, rather than against them."

The boy nodded at that, "It's more than just saving our society from inbreeding. Muggleborns often provide a fresh perspective to stale notions. They have their own skills and talents that can better our society. What the wizarding world needs is balance."

"Tell me, Potter," Voldemort spoke softly, ending the current topic without mentioning whether the advice would be heeded or not, "why are you so keen on leaving this battle?"

Potter laughed bitterly at that, "This world is…rotting. We subjugate the very magical creatures which lend our world power, we cage dragons and use unicorns only for their potions ingredients. We dumb down our educational curriculum while neglecting to teach valuable branches of magic, leaving them to be forgotten. We hire incompetent politicians, law enforcement, and even professors, instead using the media to spread propaganda about our own greatness. Any society which condones asking a child and his two friends, not even out of school, to kill the greatest dark lord in their history, is not one worth fighting for."

"This is far more than just about you."

"It is. I wouldn't be leaving alone." He paused here, his voice rising slightly, wavering with the slightest tinge of reluctance, "Hermione is a master at runes and obscure magical lore, and yet no one will ever pay her any mind because she is a muggleborn. Even if she does join the ministry, the most she will obtain is a sub-par job not worthy of her knowledge and skills. Ron is the most intelligent strategist I've ever known and yet his own family know nothing about him because they constantly compare him to his high-achieving brothers. Though he doesn't have their flashy skills and careers, his talent at planning has gotten us out of more impossible situations than I'd care to admit. As a politician he'd be incredible, but dissociating himself from the Weasley reputation would be impossible."

"And…" Potter hesitated for a moment, "if the world found out that I was skilled at Death Magic, then I'd be the only scapegoat they'd ever need."

Voldemort inhaled sharply, "Death Magic. So that's why you chose this place."

The boy nodded, his smile a sad little thing, "Blood is a common sacrifice in Death Magic. The day you spilt my blood was the day I could never be harmed by anyone as long as I was in this place. The very magic in this graveyard would protect me."

"And I used your blood. It is now what flows through my veins," Voldemort replied, somewhat astonished, "As long as I occupy this body, I can never harm you." The Dark Lord breathed in wonder, "Impressive. You were able to turn my own resurrection into your greatest protection." It struck him then just how easily the boy could have killed him. Voldemort would be unable to harm Potter, but one spell from the other's wand and he would be dead.

Potter's lips quirked up again, the smile of a man who knew he had won. "You can do with the wizarding world as you wish. You can condemn those who have allowed it to get this way, but do not condemn those who had no part in this."

"I will consider it," he paused for a moment, serpentine eyes narrowed in concentration, "Where will you go?"

The boy smiled, "The world is a large place, Tom." Voldemort had to supress the slight twinge of annoyance at that. "And the Wizarding World is small. There are many places, magical and otherwise, to explore."

"And your friends will not disagree with your actions?"

"They support me, the only ones that matter anyways. We decided upon this before I even came here, Tom. We know what we want. We care little for what we're leaving behind and we've been waiting a long time for our freedom."

"Then we have our deal."

"We do," Potter nodded, "I enjoyed seeing you Tom, if only this one time."

Voldemort chuckled, his thin lips stretching to accommodate the unfamiliar movement. "I wish you good luck, Potter."

Potter nodded once more, turned on the spot and apparated away, leaving Voldemort with the triumphant knowledge that he had won this war.


End file.
